SUMMER'S END

35

Robyn had never seen such a mixture of desire and despair in someone’s eyes, but she hadn’t hesitated when Nicki had started to cry. She hadn’t stopped because she knew she had to get her through this and doing what she was doing now, a foreign object strapped to her thighs, seemed to alter the emotions on Nicki’s face by the second. She bent her elbows a little more, changing the angle of the toy inside Nicki slightly and was met by another guttural groan. Her nipples hovered close enough to Nicki’s torso to graze her skin when she rocked her pelvis, and she could feel Nicki’s ragged breath blow across her cheeks. Robyn couldn’t be closer to her, yet that was what she craved. She wanted to show Nicki that this was who she really was, the natural progression of the person she’d discovered inside herself in Samui. She wanted to let her know how much she cared about her, how much she owed her—and loved her. How it could be between them if she stayed. Robyn shook that last thought off her, realising it was unfair. She
had time to manage her expectations later. Because the way Nicki looked at her, her eyes all but glazing over, tears running from them in steady streams, there was no way she didn’t know. And when she let go, when Nicki’s body shivered beneath her, one muscle spasm quickly following the next, it shook Robyn to her core. It touched her soul. She took the trip with Nicki, that warm, moist, tingling voyage through flesh and bone that, at the same time, had such an effect on her mind. It was the single most
powerful experience of Robyn’s life. She let Nicki call the shots, let her gaze up at her with moist eyes and sagging lips before pulling her close, their bodies covered in a layer of sweat.
“You’ve changed me,” Nicki said into Robyn’s ear. “I want to live again.” Robyn pressed her lips into Nicki’s tousled hair before pulling out gently. It was an odd sensation, having just fucked another woman like that—the closeness and togetherness it had
brought about. As transformative as it had been a few seconds ago, Robyn couldn’t get the contraption off her quick enough now so she could press her own body against Nicki. She rapidly loosened
the straps, slipped out of the harness and tossed it aside. “I want to live with you,” she said, after she’d freed herself and rubbed her entire body against Nicki’s side. And perhaps it was too soon, maybe even ludicrous, but in that moment, it couldn’t have
felt more right. When Nicki didn’t instantly reply, Robyn pushed herself up on her elbows and scanned Nicki’s face. Her eyes were closed, her features relaxed, her limbs sunk into the duvet. It was as at peace as Robyn had seen her. She still couldn’t believe Nicki was here, in her bed—she almost wanted to reach for the toy again, as if needing to examine evidence. She planted a soft kiss on Nicki’s cheekbone. Nicki opened her eyes in response. A single tear slid along her temple,
down onto the pillow. “Come here,” she said, and cradled her arm around Robyn’s neck, pulling her close. Robyn rested her head on Nicki’s chest, just above the swell of her breast. She felt more like home than ever in her flat.
“I guess I’d better start by informing my family of my new lifestyle though,” Robyn backtracked a little because she fully realised that, just because the moment felt right for her, it wouldn’t necessarily be the same for Nicki. “Now that you’re here, I feel as if I can really do that, whereas before it was more of an abstract notion.”
“Do it when you’re ready. You can’t force these things.” Nicki pulled her close, her fingers travelling across Robyn’s back. “And even posh Holland Park families have feelings. I’ve been there, so I know.”
“How did your parents react?” All the questions we have yet to ask each other.
“Well,” Nicki chuckled. “Considering the fact that I always categorically refused to wear a dress or a skirt whenever I was home from school—gosh, these ghastly uniforms they made us wear—and, as a teenager, my room was decorated with pictures of old female movie stars like Ingrid Bergman and Lauren Bacall, it didn’t come as that much of a surprise, I suppose.” She sighed, her chest heaving up and down. “There were the usual questions. Are you sure? Have you given boys a fair chance? And concerns, of course. Will she ever be happy? How will the world treat her? Because, in the end, no matter where you’re from, most parents just want their children to be happy. And once they get past the fact that their child’s happiness will not exactly align with their expectations, they find a way to accept it.” Nicki’s hand had trailed all the way back up to Robyn’s hair, twirling strands of it around her fingers. “And I was happy. For a long time, I was so happy. Ingrid didn’t come from the same background as me, but as soon as my father set eyes on her, he saw what I saw.” Nicki’s voice broke a little, but she recovered. “If your family is half decent, and I assume they are, having brought up someone as loving and kind as yourself, they’ll come round.”
“Loving and kind, huh?” Robyn’s lips found the delicate spot beneath Nicki’s ear. “How about irresistibly sexy and naturally adept at wielding a strap-on?” Nicki giggled and turned on her side, facing Robyn. “There’s that, but I wouldn’t stress these particular details when coming out.”
“Will you come with me?” Robyn’s heart pounded in her chest. “When I tell them.” Nicki shook her head. “I can’t do that, baby.” Robyn’s stomach tightened. “Put yourself in their shoes for a second. You break
off your engagement, escape to Thailand and come back with a woman more than fifteen years your senior. Sometimes, it’s better to minimise the shock.”
“It just… I don’t know. Somehow, I suspect they’ll have an easier time accepting it if you’re there. If they can see for themselves that lesbians are not social outcasts and—”
“Ahum,” Nicki interrupted her.
“You know what I mean.”
“This is something you’ll have to do on your own, babe.”